


I Feel Like A Monster

by OkamiShadou98



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkamiShadou98/pseuds/OkamiShadou98
Summary: Lucifer needs Chloe, plain and simple. Or he did, until she breaks him. Can they reconcile or did she speak the truth. Is he a monster? Set somewhere in an early season two without Mum.





	1. Warning Sign

**Author's Note:**

> I warn you now, this story is angsty. Updates will be quick as this fic is already on other sites. I decided to move here because the Lucifer community is larger. Expect new chapters every two to three days. Additionally, this fic does follow the rules of Lucifer's immortality as set by the show, I've just played with the elements a bit. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

The lights flickered from blue to red to green, arching flashes which illuminated the crowd pressed tightly together as they danced. The energy of the room was nearly palatable, a mix of heat, arousal, and alcohol creating a savory mix that sent every nerve firing. Music thundered from overhead speakers, unattended glasses rattling on the tables from the bass.

Leaning back against his pristine bar top, Lucifer's eyes roved approvingly over the scantily clad club goers frequenting Lux. Bosoms were bouncing, hips circling in time to the music. Reaching behind him, he grasped the tumbler the bartender had been dutifully refilling for the better part of the night. He threw it back in one go, not savoring it as he usually would. Ordinarily he took the time to appreciate every drop of alcohol he ingested but not tonight. No, tonight he had more pressing things on his mind.

Placing the glass back, he pushed off the bar. The movement drew more then one pair of eyes, those nearest to him sensing the change in atmosphere as he switched from resting to prowling. He stalked towards the center of the room, heads turning to follow his descent down the few steps to his piano.

The attention, those hungry, desirous looks, made him smirk. He added a bit of flair to his movements, tight suit leaving little to the imagination.

They had called him King of Hell but here was where he truly ruled.

The temperature of the room rose a few degrees, the yearning tangible as he drifted through the crowd, looking for something special. It was incredible how provocative humans seemed to find him even when he was fully clothed. He had toyed with the notion, once or twice, of spending an evening in the nude. Such a thing would probably lead to pandemonium though. Humans were like rubber bands, you could only stretch them so far before they snapped.

A movement on his right caught his attention and he cocked his head. Standing near the rail was a dirty blonde woman, pale face flushed. Besides her was an equally enthralled male. He could taste the desire coming off them, a desperate plea. It tugged on his flesh, a call for pleasure and all sorts of devious acts.

Approaching, he ignored the crestfallen faces of those whom had not been chosen. Once Lucifer chose that night's bed mate, it was game over.

"Hello." he said softly, eyes crinkling as the couple stared wide eyed. "I'm Lucifer Morningstar, the owner of this establishment. And you are?"

"Becca." the woman breathed. "And this is James." she pointed to the man besides her who looked too starstruck to answer on his own.

Lucifer's lip curled in delight. Couples were simply bundles of fun, so much to touch and tweak.

"Well Becca, James." he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "What is it you two desire?"

James' adams apple bobbed interestingly at the question, a strangled noise forcing its way from his vocal chords.

"I'm sorry, didn't quite catch that." he held a hand to his ear, excitement coursing through him as he thought about how tonight would unfold.

The two were blushing so hard that he wondered if an ice cube could melt on their faces. He would have to try that, as well as on their backs, chests, hips -

A vibrating from his pant's pocket shattered his musings.

Distractedly, he pulled the phone from his pocket, intending to dismiss the call. The name appearing in bold letters made him hesitate.

"Terribly sorry but I must take this. Why don't you two use this brief reprieve to find your tongues again?" he turned partially away, keeping the couple in his peripherals as he accepted the call. "Detective! As pleased as I am about you calling, I am a tad busy at the moment." he said cheerily.

"We have a case." Chloe responded shortly, not bothering with a greeting.

"Right." he said, looking at the couple in frustration. "Are you quite sure this requires my skill set?" he asked.

As much as he enjoyed working with his partner, his body was demanding he hung up and gave into more carnal desires.

"Since when do you bail on a case?" Chloe asked. There was a sharp intake of breath and she continued outraged. "Are you having sex right now?"

He jerked the phone away from his ear with a wince as she yelled. "I was about to until you called!" he shouted back, squaring his shoulders. "Really, I don't know why you care. I propositioned you for weeks and every time you declined." Beginning to pace, he realized with dismay that Becca and James had vanished, their spot conspicuously empty. "Bollocks." he growled.

"I'm a block from Lux. Are you in or out?" Chloe asked shortly, far too accustomed to his sexual banter to even acknowledge it.

"In." he grounded out, still searching for his escaped toys.

The line went dead and he conceded defeat. Stuffing the device back into his pocket forcefully, he made his way towards the stairs, pausing only to inform the bartender that he would be out for the rest of the night.

Once outside, he waited impatiently in the narrow alley between Lux and the next door building. Lighting a cigarette, he planned how Chloe would have to repay him for ruining his evening. He could not leave her to do all the case paperwork (he did that already). Maybe he could convince her to re-enact a few choice scenes from Hot Tub High School.

When Chloe finally pulled into the alley, his cigarette was all but forgotten, burning dangerously close to his fingertips, and his pants were uncomfortably tight.

"I thought you said you were only a block away." he said, opening the car door and climbing in stiffly.

"I lied." she said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out again.

The traffic was minimal as it was so late, the drive to the crime scene taking only ten minutes. On the way, Chloe filled him in.

"A body was found in Grovewood Park. Some late night jogger stumbled on it." she said.

"And? People turn up dead all the time." he shifted on the seat, his large frame not designed for such a compact car.

"It was a kid." her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

"Ah." was all he said.

He knew Chloe took every case hard but dead children tended to shake her up. She had confided once that she could not help but imagine her daughter at these crime scenes, blood matting her unruly dark hair and brown eyes lifeless.

He looked at her profile uncertainly. She was bothered, though she tried to hide it. The death grip on the steering wheel kind of gave it away. This was not his area of expertise. He could make anyone scream with pleasure with hardly a touch but offering comfort?

What was so pleasant about hugs anyway?

Awkwardly, he reached over, placing his hand over her's. Working his nimble fingers between her own, he loosened her grip. She glanced over at him, startled by his uncharacteristic touching.

He kept his eyes trained straight ahead, faking nonchalance. The feel of her skin, colder than his own, was the only thing he could focus on though. Hand holding was not something he had partaken in. Ever. Period. Feeling her hand warm against his though… he was beginning to see why humans did it. It was kind of nice, if a tad odd.

The moment was broken as the car pulled into the park parking lot and Chloe had to untangle her hand to unclip her badge and show it to the officer baring the path forward.

"Hello Detective Decker." the officer said. "Forensics is already here." he pointed to one of the three paths that stretched outwards through the park. "Just take the right most one and you'll find them."

"Thank you." she said and parked in the first available spot, climbing out quickly.

Lucifer followed suit, shaking his legs to re-establish some blood flow as he looked around. For all the police vehicles present, the area was rather quiet.

Chloe was already heading towards the path and he hurried to catch up with her. They walked in silence, shoes occasionally scraping against the asphalt. The playground was to their left, located dead center of the park. The path they were taking, however, led towards the bit of forest that had been preserved for joggers and dog walkers. Bits of light peeked from between the trees.

Chloe's pace increased, her long strides bordering on a trot. It was still too quiet.

When they entered the wooded area, the first thing they noticed was the number of people not doing anything. Usually a crime scene was bustling as officers took statements and forensics did their thing.

Massive lights had been set up around a ditch just off the main path. It was difficult to see what lay beyond, the lighting too bright after the near darkness blanketing the rest of the park. Shielding her eyes, Chloe continued on doggedly and Lucifer was forced to follow, mumbling under his breath as bits of rock and dirt slid under his loafers and nearly sent him tumbling.

"What do we have?" Chloe asked, gaze focused on a small body covered by a white tarp.

The forensic, someone Lucifer was not familiar with, was kneeling on the ground besides his kit. At the question, he rose and brushed himself off.

"Boy, fourteen. Cause of death was blunt force trauma." he rattled off wearily.

"Was this where it happened?" Chloe asked.

"No, from what we gather, the body was dumped here. Judging from the poor hiding spot, we think we're dealing with an amateur. The killing does not seem to be premeditated."

Lucifer was not paying attention. Instead, he looked curiously at the tarp. Bodies were normally covered for two reasons. One, to offer the body some semblance of privacy. Death tended to draw crowds and the police usually deemed it necessary to hide the body in order to control the crowd. Two, the injuries were too grotesque to be seen.

And seeing as it was two in the morning in a deserted park, he would have to go with the latter.

He was curious now about the state of the body. What most people considered horrific he merely thought of as a typical Tuesday in Hell. He edged towards the covered form, wanting to take a peak at what was so terrible, even the forensic team looked ill.

"Do you have an ID yet?" Chloe asked, ever the diligent detective.

"We won't know until we get the body out of here." the man sighed, tracing the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. "I hate these sort of cases. Who could kill a child? Smash them in the skull and watch the life bleed out of them?"

Lucifer was only a few feet from the body now. Crouching, he looked over at Chloe but she was paying him no mind. His gaze fell to the sheet again. Stretching out a hand, he grazed the pad of his thumb over the wrinkled surface. What lay below was cold and solid, like rocks.

He frowned to himself. Humans did not die in Hell. Their bodies never went stiff with rigor mortis or turn to ice. Caressing the tarp again, he felt the features of a face, a nose protruding slightly.

For all the time he had spent at crime scenes, he had never actually touched a dead body before. He had never really had reason to. By the time he and Chloe usually showed up, forensics had done their thing and the body was ready to be carted off.

His fingers found the edge of the tarp. With near reverence, he peeled it back carefully.

First exposed was a mess of light brown hair, some of it matted darker with what smelled like blood. A few soft strands shifted from the sheet being moved, ruffling. He tugged, wanting to see more.

The tarp stuck for a moment and he had to yank it harder. Uncovering the top half of the face, he scrutinized it carefully.

A massive wound had been dealt to the side of the teen's head, blood staining his ear and forehead. Lifeless eyes stared up, sparkless. It was weird how… empty he looked. Lucifer knew the body was merely a vessel for the soul but he had not anticipated for it to look like a deflated shopping bag.

His gaze cut back to the wound. It was ugly but hardly something worth covering. He had seen worse with Chloe, much worse. Broken skulls were hardly pleasant but they did not compare to flayed flesh or arms torn out of their sockets…

"What are you doing?" someone whispered, horror struck.

He looked up, dropping the sheet back over the teen's face and found Chloe's stricken gaze trained on him.

"I was looking." he said, not sure why she seemed so off put.

"You were looking?" she repeated.

He rose from his crouch, frowning. "I wanted to see what the injury looked like. You were all acting like it was horrific and I was curious. " he said.

She reeled away from him as if he had struck her. "People… people don't do that." she said, looking pale.

"Detective? Are you alright?" he moved towards her but she backed up, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Don't… don't please." she whispered.

Lucifer had no idea what to do. It seemed he had done something vulgar but what he did not know. Chloe was breathing deeply through her nose like she might be sick. Her reaction, as far as he was concerned, seemed a bit on the dramatic side.

"We have an ID!" someone yelled from the path, breaking the tension.

Chloe whirled away from him, suddenly the height of cool and collected. She climbed out of the ditch carefully. "That was fast." she commented.

The other detective nodded. "Turns out he was reported missing by his parents just after nine. The mother went to check up on him before she went to bed and he was gone. She's been calling the station every half hour, demanding updates. When we heard you found a kid, well, it just seemed to fit."

She nodded. "Time of death was placed at around seven hours ago, before he was reported missing. I want to speak with the parents."

"Here's the address." the other detective handed her a piece of paper.

Lucifer had made his way to the path as well during the exchange. Now, positioned behind Chloe, he looked over her shoulder to read the address.

"Chesterfield Square?" he questioned. "Not exactly a nice neighborhood."

Chloe jolted, spinning around. She still looked deeply uncomfortable and refused to look him in the eye. Without a word, she headed back in the direction of her car. Lucifer followed, still not sure what he had done to warrant her new aversion to him.

When he climbed into the passenger seat of the sedan, she hesitated, like she wanted to tell him to leave. Instead, she sighed and put the key in the ignition.

When they pulled up to the house they were looking for, still not so much as a glance had passed between them. It felt like someone had erected a concrete wall, impenetrable.

Lucifer tried not to let the tension bother him too much. As he had seen earlier, these cases always affected Chloe badly. Perhaps the young age of the victim was playing into her new behavior now.

She knocked on the door and, despite the late hour, it was opened almost immediately by a frazzled looking woman.

"Is this about Mark?" she asked frantically, looking around like she expected her son to appear from behind them.

"Mrs. Porter, my Detective Decker with the LAPD. May we come in?"

The woman frowned at Lucifer, Chloe's failure to introduce him not going unnoticed. She relented however, stepping aside to let the two in.

"Harry!" she called. "The police are here."

Something was dropped, a clatter echoing through the house, and a man came rushing into view, eyes almost crazed.

"Have they found Mark?" he asked loudly.

All the excitement was wearing on Lucifer but he kept his mouth shut. Chloe had hammered it into his head often enough 'do not insult the families of victims'.

"Is there somewhere we can sit down?" Chloe asked, stiff lip threatening to wobble.

The couple's faces fell, despair stealing any glimmer of hope. Wordlessly they led the way into a crowded living room. Chloe took a seat on a low couch and Lucifer followed suit, trying to fit his legs between the couch and coffee table.

He was not normally included in these sorts of things - his personality considered too "unprofessional". There was only one exception to that rule… if Chloe thought the person she was notifying was involved in the murder.

"Mr. and Mrs. Porter, I am so sorry to inform you that your son Mark was found dead in Grovewood Park from blunt force trauma." Chloe was fighting to hold it together, not allowing her inner turmoil to show.

The mother collapsed in on herself, sobbing. Her husband, however, maintained some self control.

"Blunt force? I don't understand." he spoke carefully, as if he had to fight to articulate every word.

Chloe hesitated which Lucifer took as his que to speak up.

"Someone broke his skull." he said conversationally. "And the Detective thinks one of you did it."

"Lucifer!" Chloe said sharply. She addressed the parents, aghast. "I apologize for my partner. He is completely out of line."

Mr. Porter stood up sharply, teeth clenched. "How dare you!" he thundered. "How dare you imply I or my wife would murder our child! Who the fuck do you think you are?"

His tone was grating on Lucifer, annoyance taking hold at how he was being addressed. Rising gracefully, he offered a mirthless smile.

"I advise you to not disrespect me. That sort of thing never ends well." he threatened lightly. Something caught his eyes and he frowned. One of the tables on either end of the couch was missing a lamp. The other had one. "One of your lamps appears to have gone astray." he noted.

Mr. Porter was still seething but his words had caught the attention of his wife. Even through her tears, she noticed the same detail, seeming surprised.

"I want you out of my house! Out now!" Mr. Porter screamed, spittle flying.

"Yes sir. We'll leave immediately." Chloe rose hastily and body checked Lucifer, shoving him towards the door.

The moment the two were outside, the door slammed with a resounding clatter so forceful that the house numbers stuck to the wall fell off.

"The husband did it." Lucifer said casually, reaching into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes. "He must have used the lamp. The wife looked surprised when I mentioned it. Evidently she was too caught up with her missing son to notice until now."

Chloe was facing away from his breathing deeply in massive billows. Her fists were curled at her side.

"Detective? Did you hear me? We've solved the case." he approached her, confused. "Well, I more than you I suppose. Really, this one was quite easy. I thought perhaps we would get a challenging one this time aro-"

Smack.

The open palm slap was completely unexpected. Stumbling backwards, he raised a hand to his cheek, the area throbbing sharply.

"Detective! Whatever has gotten into you?" he asked angrily.

Chloe finally looked at him and he immediately wished she had not. Every line on her face, the downward slant of her mouth, the narrowed eyes spoke of only one thing.

Hatred.

"What is wrong with you!" she screamed, almost hysterical.

"What is wrong with you?" he said. "By all means, I enjoy a little roughness in the bedroom but this hardly constitutes."

She was in his face, hands twisting in the lapels of his shirt. There height difference did not seem to matter in the slightest.

"This is not a fucking joke!" she snarled, teeth grinding with rage. "You… first you uncover a dead child just because you're curious and now you're making accusations of murder to grieving parents. Do you understand how sick that is? How completely fucked up a person has to be to do something like that?"

He didn't. Not one bit.

"Chloe…" he said uncertainly.

She shook him. Hard. And he let her.

"Don't use my name. God, I can't believe this." he released him abruptly, her revulsion so deep she now wanted to be as far from him as possible.

"I… I don't understand." he said, the situation spinning away from him.

What had he done? He knew so little of this world, of its rules. How could he fix something when he did not understand how he had broken it?

"I don't know why I didn't see it before. I mean, you think you're the fucking Devil. Of course you're sick in the head." she was not listening to him, too caught up in her own ramblings.

He stepped towards her again, wanting to breach the distance that seemed to be growing by kilometers every second.

"Don't come near me!" she roared, crying. Actual tears were streaming down her face, glistening in the light cast by the street lamps. "You're a monster!"

The ground dropped out from under him.

Or it felt like it at least.

His feet were firmly planted but he felt weightless. In free fall.

"N-no." he stuttered.

She could not think that. Not her. Not his Chloe.

"You are!" she was still screaming. "This was a mistake, all of it! I never should have let you near me, near my daughter!"

"Stop it." he said feebly, his stomach twisting in a foreign way as if it was trying to pop itself inside out.

"You were a mistake!"

It was the final nail in the coffin.

He had heard this all before. From his father. From his brothers and sisters. From the people he tormented in Hell. And never once had he believed it, not really. But every word Chloe said, it was slicing into him, tearing ragged hole through his chest. He could not breath, could not speak.

Chloe was no longer speaking, not that he even noticed. His world had grown unbearably cold, a numbness sweeping through him at an alarming rate. Where was the anchor which had once grounded him?

Oh right, she was standing before him. She thought him a monster.

He was no longer aware of Chloe, his mind curling inwards to protect itself. The words still bounced around his skull though, tearing through long since healed scars. His body ached, a pain beyond the physical.

He wanted to die.

Self preservation, however, was one of his greatest attributes. So instead he ran.

He took off as fast as he feet would carry him, arms pumping at his side. Everything was a blur and his lungs burned but still he moved. Once or twice a car honked at him but he refused to stop. He could outrun this, outrun the pain. He had to.

It was his knee that was his undoing.

The joint reached its point and simply collapsed. He pitched forward onto the ground, scraping his face and palms against the concrete sidewalk. The sun was starting to rise, the sky turning purple and red.

Everything was still blurry.

He dug into his pocket, fingers landing on his phone. Pulling it out, he dialed a number he knew by heart. And then he waited.

The minutes crept by slowly, or so he thought. Time was not really his biggest concern at the moment.

And that was how a frantic Maze found him half an hour later: sprawled out on the ground, bloody scratches adorning his face, and tears falling hard and fast from devastated deep brown eyes.


	2. Lose Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I never thought so many of you would be interested in this story! I will be updating daily until I get caught up. This chapter is short but I like where it ends.

The moment the elevator doors opened and exposed Lucifer's penthouse, Maze knew she was in for a fight.

The main room was an unmitigated disaster. It looked as though a washing machine had exploded, clothes were piled around haphazardly. A hot pink bra hung from the fireplace mantle, the absurd color violently at odds with the rest of the room. Not even the piano had been spared. As Maze approached, she counted no less than six pairs of men's boxers stretched across the black surface, displayed proudly as if they were trophies.

The amount of clothing, however, paled in comparison to the number of empty bottles and glasses cluttering every flat surface.

The tall shelves behind the bar were bare save for a miserable bottle of Corona which had no business inhabiting the same space as hundred year old whiskies in Maze's opinion. Someone must have brought the piss in which was almost laughable. Her mirth was short lived as she delved deeper into the room.

It looked like someone had thrown a party… or a dozen.

Maze sighed, air billowing from her nostrils as she shook her head. The mess would take days to clean and most, if not all, of the furniture would need to be replaced, or at the least, reupholstered.

Lucifer was a partier, there was no denying that, but he usually kept his place relatively clean. She would never say he was anal about cleanliness (at least, not to his face) but she knew he took immense pride in the appearance of all his possessions, home included.

Which was why the mess was so troubling to her.

"Lucifer?" she said softly, making her way towards the master bedroom.

The doors were opened which was nothing new but the curtains of every window had been drawn, plunging the room into a hazy darkness. The trail of clothes and alcohol continued, ending atop the massive bed centered in the room. Monochrome sheets were unyielding aside from the random scotch label and summer dress, dull splashes of color. Amongst the clutter was a blanket covered lump. Currently, said lump moved gently as it breathed, deep and even.

"Lucifer!" she repeated, a bit more forcefully.

This was how the past six days had gone for Maze. Lucifer would party into the early hours of the morning, fuck himself silly all afternoon, and sleep like the dead until Lux opened so he could repeat the whole damn process. He had been riding a feverish high ever since she had found him bleeding on the roadside, forcing himself to consume as much alcohol and drugs as his human sized stomach could contain.

More than once in the last few days, Maze had nearly walked out. If Lucifer wanted to self destruct, far be it for her to tell him otherwise. But then she would remember how she had found him, curled up on the ground and crying, and she could not bring herself to leave.

Whatever had happened had been major but he had yet to bring it up. She suspected all the hard partying was his own form of distraction, his own way of running away. But from what she could not fathom. There was nothing on the planet that could give the Devil pause. He was a warrior, a punisher.

So what had completely fucked him up?

"Lucifer enough!" she barked, striding towards the bed and shaking the blanket roughly.

Bottles scattered across the floor, rolling out of sight under the bed with dull clunks. Maze tugged the blanket again and was rewarded with the sight of badly tousled dark hair. One more yank and the rest of a head appeared.

Her shout of triumph was short lived as sobering reality crashed into the demon the moment she took in Lucifer's face.

He was pale. Not the sort of pale that comes after spending all of winter indoors but the blanched color of someone who had just gone a round or two with the flu. His eyes were sunken, dark bags making them appear as if they were literally in danger of falling backwards through his skull. There was no light in his eyes, no spark of anger or joy or even fear. They were utterly lifeless, desolate.

He was aware at least, though Maze was not sure she could count that as a positive.

"Go away." he said at last, rolling on his side and burrowing under his pillow.

"Nope." she said, picking up the pillow and tossing it over the edge of the bed. "You've sulked long enough. I'm getting tired of looking after you."

"No one asked you to." he said, propping himself up on his elbows so he could glare at her better.

Even sickly, there was no denying the power rolling off him.

"What was I supposed to do? Sit around and let you ruin yourself?" she could not help it as her voice rose with anger. "Every second you're not partying you spend alone in bed. You've avoided me and Linda says you canceled your appointment with her this week."

Lucifer rose to his feet, his own anger bubbling to the surface. "What I do is of no concern to you! You made your position with me perfectly clear after the debacle with my brother." he stalked around the bed.

Maze's thin temper snapped. "You're the one who called!" she screamed. "I should have left your ass on the side of the road. This was a mistake!"

It was incredible the effect one single word could have.

The moment she said 'mistake', he crumpled. His form seemed to sag on itself, his bones not able to hold the weight of his body. He collapsed backwards onto the bed, sat down with his head drooping forward.

"Was it?" he asked, sounding incredibly small and uncertain.

There was far too much pain in that simple question.

"No. No it wasn't." Maze relented. Taking a half empty bottle off the floor, she sat beside him and took a long draw. "Lucifer, what's going on?"

He was so close she could feel the heat of his body but she knew his mind was light years from her. Sharing personal feelings that never been their thing. But sometimes physical closeness was enough.

He startled her out of her thoughts when he began to speak.

"I seem to have blundered." he said softly.

"When do you not?" she could not help but add.

He did not smile. "Humans are terribly cruel creatures. Angels are too, in their own way, but people… no, they are a different breed entirely. I think they like it to a certain extent, hurting others and tormenting the innocent. They feel so much yet are so incredibly short sighted. Whatever pops into those melons, they just say without regard for the effects on others."

Maze listened to every word he said, trying to pick out what he was actually trying to say through the ramblings.

"The worst part, I suppose, is how you find that one human. That one human who you think is far too kind to be that cruel. You allow them to see yourself, no walls or barriers, because you trust them." he paused, adam's apple bobbing dangerously. "And then they break that trust and you have to wonder… what did you do wrong? What did you do that was so heinous that the person you trusted most now looks upon you with hatred?" He was quivering besides her, minuscule shakes racking his form. Haunted eyes turned towards her, pleading for an answer, begging for her to alleviate his pain. "What did I do wrong?" he whimpered.

And now tears were flowing, staining the whites of his eyes red. Yet he did not reach for her, mindful, even in his despair, that she was not fond of displays of weakness.

The pieces were beginning to clink into place for Maze.

"Lucifer, this isn't on you, okay? This is what humans do. They use and abuse. Surely you've seen enough souls in Hell to know that." she said, hoping logic was the proper approach.

"N-not this hum-human." he managed between gasps, still trying to keep his crying quiet.

Her hand rose to his cheek. His tears were hot and wet beneath her fingers, a stickier consistency than water. She rubbed the spot he had scraped when he had fallen, the skin perfectly healed. The wound had bothered her. He had bled and Chloe had been miles away from what she had gathered. Quite simply, it should never have happened.

"Lucifer, you were bleeding when I found you." she said, not sure how much of that night he actually remembered.

He nodded, breath rattling in his throat as he attempted to regain some semblance of control. "Yes."

"You're not surprised?"

"No." his right hand came up and rubbed roughly at the spot over his heart. "I think it's broken." he confessed.

Maze wondered if he was losing his sanity. "What's broken?"

"Something in here." his nails were leaving indents in his skin, they pressed so hard. And even as Maze watched, a droplet of blood began to form. "It hurts so bad. But it shouldn't. It can't." wet eyes rose to meet her stricken gaze. "I think I'm bleeding cause it's broken."

The gravity of the statement was lost on the two Hell dwellers who had nothing by which to compare heartache. But they knew suffering well. And they knew the roaring pain of despair.

Maze reached for him, wrapping her arms about him the best she could. His head landed on her shoulder as silent tears gave way to full blown sobs. One of his arms went to her waist, anchoring her there as if he were afraid she would leave him. But Maze had no intention of leaving. Not now, quite possibly not ever.

There was no instinct guiding her, no soul or conscience telling her how to proceed. She mimicked what she had seen on television, raising one hand uncertainly to his tangle of curls and trying to run her fingers through the mess. She was sure it was causing him discomfort, her normally poised hands now clumsy in their uncertainty, but he did not shy away.

"It's fine." she said with as much confidence as she could muster. "Everything always turns out fine."

"Not for monsters." he managed between heaving sobs.

Maze had no response. In the back of her mind, she carefully crafted Chloe Decker's demise. Because there was only one human Lucifer would ever talk about like that, only one person on this planet of seven billion who had earned his trust.

And she had broken him.


	3. Focal Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter shows some of what was going on in Chloe's head. Next chapter is the confrontation between her and Lucifer.

Finally solving a case was supposed to be the best part of an investigation. Justice was handed out and grieving families could rest easy. It made it all worth it - the sleepless nights, the hours of interviewing, the time spent away from home and in harm's way.

Chloe should have been feeling that now, the warmth in her gut from a job well done.

Instead, she felt like shit.

Her stomach ached in a way similar to when she had gotten the flu last year, a constant shivering that left her skin flushed. A dull, persistent throb had taken up residence behind her eyes and showed no signs of abating anytime in the near future.

There was also the absolute crushing weight of guilt that threatened to break her spine but she tried her damndest to ignore that particular feeling.

Mostly.

Sitting at her desk at the precinct, she stared aimlessly at the report she was supposed to be typing up. The cursor blinked, urging her to write something. Anything. But though her hands rested on the keyboard, she could not summon the energy to press the keys.

All around her, the station buzzed with excitement and relief. Every detective, even the ones not directly involved with the Porter case, felt a certain sense of relief now that the case was officially closed. This was how it often went with murdered children however. The entire homicide department would band together instinctively. So many of them were parents themselves...

And yet none of them had screamed obscenities at their partners.

Chloe looked to the chair next to her desk. It was one of those rolling ones with the adjustable height. Usually by this point in an investigation - the filling out of paperwork part - that chair would be squeaking as her partner fiddled with it in boredom. But now it was empty, just as it had been for the past seven days. Strange, the noise from the chair used to drive her insane but right now she was willing to trade almost anything to hear it again.

"Lucifer's still making himself scarce?"

The voice jolted Chloe. She looked up hurriedly, surprised to find Dan standing before her, a coffee cup held out invitingly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah he's not around." she answered lamely, her brain still a tad fuzzy.

Dan's head was slightly cocked as he nodded in a fashion which was a little too understanding for Chloe's taste.

"It's a little weird. Not that I mind his absence or anything, but he hasn't really left your side since this whole civilian consultant thing started."

She knew that look now. Pity.

"Since when do you care about what Lucifer does?" she said, defensiveness making her tone accusatory.

The lightness left Dan's face, his lip downturning in a frown. "Since he became your partner." he set the coffee cup down on the desk. "As annoying and delusion as the dude is, there's no question he's got your back. I worry about you y'know. - he held up a hand, forestalling the question she opened her mouth to ask - "Yes, I know you're a total badass but everyone needs a partner."

"Thanks Dan but I can look after myself. I didn't have a partner before Lucifer remember? And I got along just fine." she argued.

"You're talking like he's not coming back."

Ah, there was that weight again. Her limbs felt heavy, far too heavy to lift. Had they always weighed this much?

"Maybe he's not." she could not meet his eye as she admitted the truth.

Every night after she had put Trixie to bed and there was nothing left to preoccupy her, that night came flooding back in vivid detail. Her twisted words sounded a thousand times worse, each insult spat with even more venom that the last time. And she would watch Lucifer's face go from glee to dismay to agony as she tore into him with everything she had.

"What do you mean? Did he resign?" Dan's impatience was the lifeline she needed to drag herself out of the tainted memory.

Yet the sight of dead brown eyes welling with tears refused to dissipate.

"Oh God." she brought both hands to her mouth as her lip quivered. "Dan, I really fucked up."

Dan shifted immediately into husband mode. The divorce they had finalized three weeks ago meant absolutely nothing as he gripped her shoulder firmly and guided her to her feet. He led the way to one of the interrogation rooms, shielding her with his body from the rest of their colleagues. She wanted to curl into his larger frame for stability but refused to show more weakness than she already had. Keeping pace with him, she managed to keep the tears at bay until the interrogation room door clicked shut.

Collapsing into one of the chairs, she sniffed hard. Dan took the opposite seat. The way they sat, Chloe was left on the side reserved for the guilty.

She felt it was rather fitting.

"What happened? Did the two of you have a fight?" his voice was gentle and soothing, so much like it had been before Palmetto.

"The victim of the Porter case, this kid Mark, he had his head bashed in. When I showed up at the crime scene with… Lucifer, forensics had covered the body. You've seen the photos. It was gruesome. I looked away for a second and when I turned around. God, Dan. Lucifer had uncovered the kid and was just staring at him like he was curious. A normal person would never do that."

Dan was frowning now. "Would you have reacted the same way if the victim was an adult?"

There was something else lurking beneath that question. A trap.

"Of course!" she said instantly. But Dan was still watching her, waiting. "I mean, yeah the death of children get to me but… but…" she trailed off.

To his credit, Dan did push the issue. Instead, he reached across the table and took her hand in his. "So, Lucifer uncovered the victim. Then what?"

She stared at their joined hands for a long moment. "Then… we went to the parent's home to inform them. Lucifer was doing what he usually does but this time… I don't know, I snapped." her eyes welled with tears for the second time that day. "And then we went outside and I said… I said something terrible."

"You were emotionally charged. These sorts of things happen on cases." Dan was torn, she could tell.

A part of him, the parent part, understood her reaction completely. The detective side was disappointed.

"I said things I knew would hurt him. I used his insecurities and threw them in his face. He looked absolutely devastated but I just wanted so badly to cause him pain in that moment." her composure was broken, tears streaming down her face. "And I don't know if I can fix things."

"Chloe, look at me. I'm not going to say you were justified because you weren't. All officers of the law have a responsibility to handle every situation with as much professionalism as possible. If you had known how badly the case was affecting you, you should have handed it off to someone else." His lecture, though stern, was still gentle. "That being said, and I can't believe I'm saying this, you also have a responsibility to Lucifer, both as a partner and a friend."

"What if he hates me? I would, if I were him." she said softly.

"Right now, he thinks you believe everything you said to him. You need to prove him wrong… unless you actually meant what you said."

At his words, Chloe stood violently. "I didn't mean a single word of it Dan! Never once have I thought he was a monster or a mistake."

Dan nodded. "Well, you better tell him that, not me."

"I will. Tonight." she said. Pausing for a moment, she rounded the table cautiously and gave Dan a quick hug. "Thank you." she said, muffled by his shirt.

"I care about you Chloe. Always." he wrapped his own arms around her for a moment before releasing her. "Now go and apologize so we can get that asshole back. It's unnatural hearing people use my real name instead of douche."  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was warm.

That was the first thing Lucifer was aware of as his body crept back into wakefulness.

The sensation of heat against his side carried with it a profound feeling of safety. For a time, he simply allowed himself to doze on and off again, dreams and reality mixing as he flowed fluidly between the two. His head was blissfully empty, thoughts sliding away from him like sand in an hourglass.

He rolled onto his side, encompassing the heat source beside him with his arm. It was a human body, definitely female, but he was not really concerned about the identity of the person. Curling his legs, he spooned contently against the slighter form with a content murr.

He wished he could wake up like this more often. Usually, his bed mates were quick to leave after the deal had been done. Not that he minded all that much. People did not come looking for a night of cuddling when they sought him out. They wanted pleasure and fun, both of which he was more than adept at providing.

This was nice though, waking up slowly besides someone else. Touching was not really his thing, never had been, but he was starting to see why some humans found it enjoyable… in moderation of course.

The woman fidgeted, body arching against his as she stretched.

"Hmmmm. Lucifer?" she mumbled.

Oh. He knew that voice.

"Maze?" he asked, eyes shooting open.

Disentangling himself from her, he rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows. Sure enough, his most loyal warrior was laying beside him… and sporting truly spectacular bedhead.

He frowned as he tried to recall why she was in his bed. They had not fornicated- both of them were fully clothed. The room was dark, the lack of light coming from the main room signalling it must be quite late. Fumbling for the bedside lamp, his movements caused something to fall off the bed and clatter against the wooden floor.

Flicking on the light, he leaned over the side of the bed and was met with the sight of a good two dozen empty liquor bottles. Slowly, he raised his gaze and took in the clothes and empty food containers piled everywhere.

The peacefulness of a moment ago vanished.

The dull ache in his chest, missing until now, came back with a vengeance, the spot throbbing sharp and steady as if he had been stabbed. Along with it came the cold, all the warmth from before driven out. The burden, which yesterday had been only excruciating, was now unbearable.

He wanted to tear apart his own skin, dig his heart out so as to stop the pain. It was a relentless pounding, all the worse now after his brief reprieve.

Instead, he flopped back onto the bed bonelessly, hands fisting in the blankets. Maze was sitting up now, one long arm looped loosely around her knees as she watched his from beneath a mournful brow.

The silent moments ticked by, unmarked. Somewhere outside, cars were racing by the building at breakneck speeds. People were crowding hundreds of clubs and bars, dancing to music. But the penthouse was above all that, impervious to the nightlife of the city it haughtily watched over.

"I'm sorry."

Lucifer looked over sharply at the apology. Maze's gaze was focused on her knees.

"Sorry?" he repeated. "Whatever for?"

"For whatever happened between you and the human."

He snorted bitterly. "You have no reason to apologize, Mazikeen."

"It just seemed appropriate." she shifted. "That's what humans do right?"

"Sometimes. I wouldn't know, no one has ever actually offered me one before." he looked darkly upwards as he spoke, shooting a glare at his father.

The mattress shifted as Maze rose. Despite her wild hair, she looked deadly as ever. "Maybe someone should." she said offhandedly.

Lucifer knew exactly who she was referring to but he chose to ignore the comment, seeking salvation in ignorance. As unfamiliar as he was with emotion pain, he was certain that his body was close to the limit of what it could handle without breaking down.

"Is Lux open?" he asked, changing the topic to something safer.

Maze was checking her reflection in the mirror, frowning slightly. "Nope. I figured you needed to sleep."

"How humane of you."

He rose from the bed, careful to not step in any of the suspicious piles of crap littering the floor. Some of the food containers were actually beginning to grow fuzzy with mold and he shivered in revulsion. How far he had fallen in the past week, reduced to a pathetic mess of raw emotions. He did not feel remotely like the devil, or even an angel. Was this how humans felt? Dad did he pity them.

"Lucifer… will this pass?"

She had his back to him but he could still see her expression in the reflection of the mirror. Her face was twisted with uncertainty and she suddenly looked far more childlike. It pained him to see her suffer over him. Maze had not been designed to deal with complex emotions and he knew she was kilometers from her comfort zone.

"Eventually, as all things do." he answered, wincing at how cryptic he had sounded. That was the sort of bullshit Amenadiel would spew.

She turned to face him, still troubled. "But for now?"

He would not lie to her, even if he could. Maze deserved the truth more than anyone else in the universe. Her loyalty had been unwavering since he had found her and last night proved it.

It had not escaped his notice that in the past week, no one had come looking for him. No one from the homicide department or patrons of Lux had bothered to see if he was okay. He had not been expecting any to but still, it kind of hurt to know not even his brother was concerned enough to visit.

Yet this demon, who could not even stand to offer a hug, had spent the entire night with him and tried her damnedest to help.

"For now, it hurts." his eyes slid closed at the emission. "I wasn't being dramatic earlier Maze. It feels broken." He splayed his hand across his chest. "But broken things heal all the time. If my time on earth has taught me anything, it's that."

"So, what happens now?"

"We go on Maze. It's what we do, what we've always done. When the last human has drawn their breath, we will be there to greet him."

He was talking out of his ass and he knew it. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to hide in bed again. But he was tired of hiding, tired of hurting. The constant partying had done nothing to alleviate the pain so he would do the next best thing and carry on as normal and hope it eventually went away. It was all he could do, really.

Maze's eyes narrowed at his nonchalance. "Don't pretend this is something we can just ignore. You didn't deserve this! Chloe Decker should- "

His eyes turned red the moment the detective's name was uttered. "You will not speak of her!" he snarled. "That name will not be uttered in my presence again."

"I should gut her." Maze hissed furiously.

"You will do no such thing." Lucifer calmed enough that his eyes returned to their regular brown. "Despite what has transpired, she should not suffer."

"But you are! And for what? Doing something she did not agree with?"

And he had no argument for that really. Aside from the one he refused to give voice to. Because how could he punish Chloe Decker if he believed all her harsh words to be true?


	4. What I Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow are you guys enjoying this story! The support has been so overwhelming. Thank you.

For the first time Chloe could remember, Lux was empty. Even when she showed up during the off hours, there was usually someone cleaning or moving equipment to prepare for the evening but now the room was desolate. The bar lights were off, the flat screen which normally depicted a woman's silhouette dancing now showing static. Her footsteps echoed in the large room, no music playing to hide the sound.

She had always thought of the night club as an extension of Lucifer himself. The two were elegant at first glance but hid beneath that exterior was a definite wild side, a blend of charm and cheek that perfectly encapsulated the owner.

Or it had at least.

"What are you doing here?" a menacing voice hissed.

Chloe whirled around, hand dropping instinctively to her gun. She had been positive no one else had been in the room. But now, standing near the piano with a predatory look, was Lucifer's ninja bartender looking for all the world as if she would prefer nothing else than to rip Chloe apart.

"Er… hello Maze." she said, moving her hand away from her weapon.

It occurred to her that she had never spoken with Maze unless there were witnesses. Not that she expected to be attacked or anything but, there was something brutal about the other woman. She was glad they were separated by a good thirty feet.

"You didn't answer the question." Maze glowered suspiciously, crossing her arms.

"I'm looking for Lucifer." she said. "I need to talk to him. I… I'm concerned."

Which seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Maze became, if it were possible, even more hostile. She stalked forward, high heeled boots clicking sharply.

"The King of Hell does not need mortals to be concerned about him. He is far more powerful than you could ever dream." she snapped.

Despite the possible danger she was in, Chloe still felt the urge to roll her eyes. These delusions that Lucifer kept up were seriously getting on her nerves. She had learned however that while Lucifer seemed amused with her refusal to believe he was actually the devil, Maze felt quite the opposite.

"Right." she said, unable to keep a hint of disbelief out of her tone. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay. He's technically my partner."

"You're not welcome here. Leave." Maze tapped long fingernails threateningly against one of the round tables positioned around the room.

"You mean, not welcome by you."

The words hung frostily in the air.

Maze's tongue peeked out as she licked her lips, lioness which had just happened across a baby gazelle.

"Lucifer has nothing to say to you." she snapped, all pretenses disposed of as she stalked forward. "And you have nothing to say to him either."

She knew, Chloe realized. She should have come prepared for this. Maze was Lucifer's closest confidant, of course she knew what had transpired between the two of them.

Bringing her gun along suddenly seemed like a fantastic idea.

Maze slid forward, toe to heel in her arched shoes. All the leather she wore as a second skin should have been restricting but it did seem to bother her in the slightest.

"You have some nerve Decker, showing up here after what you've done."

"Mazikeen. Heel." a voice said quietly from up by the elevators.

Immediately, Maze stilled, furious eyes turning towards the upper balcony. The area was poorly lit, only two pale hands wrapped around the railing discernible.

For Chloe, however, that was all she needed to see to know who was up there. How many times had she seen that obsidian black ring on stakeouts, at lunch, at her desk?

"Lucifer!" she called, taking a step towards him and away from her would be assassin.

She was stopped in her tracks by a steel grip on her arm so poignant, she could feel her bones shudder under the immense pressure.

"Not another step Decker or I will kill you." Maze said.

And Chloe did not doubt that for a minute.

"Maze, enough. Release the Detective. I'll handle this."

Despite the precarious situation she was currently in, Chloe felt relief at hearing Lucifer use the term of endearment for her. Surely that meant he was not as furious as she feared.

Maze released her and stalked off, wrenching open a partially hidden door by the bar. Before disappearing through it, she spun around to face Lucifer. "You better know what you're doing." she growled.

Now that the threat to her life had been removed, Chloe wasted no time in climbing the stairs to get to Lucifer. She had rehearsed what she was going to say the entire trip to Lux, driving around aimlessly for a good hour while organizing her thoughts.

All that careful planning smashed into smithereens when she finally got close enough to see her partner clearly.

His hair was a mess, some pieces curling into little horns that stuck up from his skull resolutely. The suit he wore was rumpled, the buttons of his vest undone and exposing the purple shirt beneath. His unkempt appearance was not what had caught her attention though.

His face was twisted into a truly terrible smirk, lips drawn back and exposing his teeth. Brown eyes were wild, pupils blown and whites stained a reddish hue from beneath thunderous brows. Arms were crossed as he surveyed her boredly, as if she was no more than an insect which had wandered into his palace.

Everything was not okay.

"What is it you wanted?" he asked curtly.

The temperature plummeted at his tone, goosebumps trailing down Chloe's arms. Her stomach jumped as she felt something she had never once equated with Lucifer.

Fear.

"I came over because we need to talk." she said haltingly, resisting the urge to take a step backwards.

She had known going into this that Lucifer would not in a playing mood. This talk should have happened a week ago. Instead, she had allowed the damage to their friendship to grow as she hid from the ramifications of her actions. But in the back of her mind, she had always expected to be forgiven.

Until now, she could do no wrong in Lucifer's eyes. He was the first to defend her, even if she did not deserve the support. The taunting that had followed her like a plague after Palmetto had come to an abrupt end with her partner's arrival. Detectives only made the mistake of belittling her in his hearing once before they learned to never do it again.

It was a sacred gift she had been bestowed, the loyalty of a man who formed no real connections with others. And she had squandered it, thrown away something precious so as to ward off the guilt and shame that echoed through her, steady as her own heartbeat.

Because written on the harsh lines around his mouth and the flaring of his nostril was undiluted hatred. Hatred for the hurt she had caused, hatred for the judgement, hatred for her.

"Lucifer..." she murmured, lip quivering. Faced with the results of her moment of emotion weakness, she felt suffocated.

He seemed completely unmoved by her display. If anything, the tears welling in her eyes only increased his annoyance. Uncrossing his arms, he gestured jerkily towards the elevator.

"If you wish to speak, fine. I doubt I could rid of your presence regardless. I do ask, however, that we move this discussion upstairs. The club is to open soon and it is unseemly for a business owner to flaunt his personal business in the hearing of paying patrons." Though his tone was clipped, there was a tremble beneath it that he could not hide.

Nodding mutely, Chloe shuffled towards the elevator. Lucifer stabbed the button and waited impatiently for the sleek doors to open. When they did so, he entered stiffly and placed himself rigidly to one side. Chloe chose the spot farthest from his own, the agitation he was emitting infectious in the confined space.

She felt her stomach lurch as the elevator began to rise. Having already felt sick for most of the day, this new unpleasant feeling was almost too much for her stomach to take. Breathing heavily through her nose, she warded off the nauseous feeling creeping up her throat. Her eyes stung against the burn, the tears from before breaking free to roll lethargically down her face in a fiery trail.

A soft ding signaled their arrival to the penthouse level. Chloe gathered herself hastily, swiping at her face to hide the wetness. She needn't have worried though. The moment the doors slid open, Lucifer was out, like a caged animal when it is sprung free. He made his way to the bar where a half filled tumbler already sat, condensation glittering on the crystal surface.

Entering cautiously, Chloe was not sure where to stand. The penthouse no longer felt familiar. She did not belong here.

Biting her lip, she decided to simply stay where she was, right next to the elevator. It granted her a hasty escape if one was necessary and also meant she was not imposing on Lucifer's space. His behavior was beginning to worry her. There was an aggressive to his movements as if he were trying to claim the room as his. It was similar to the way Maze often behaved, predatory.

Lucifer still had his back to her, exerting an unnecessary amount of focus on his glass as he refilled it.

The brief reprieve felt nothing short of torturous, the tension of before building to nearly explosive levels. Chloe could hardly stand it, how was Lucifer still so composed?

But he wasn't, not really. As much as he was trying to hide his own discomfort, she could read it clearly in the hunch of his shoulders, the death grip he had on his drink, his locked knees. His feet moving as he shifted his weight from one to the other in a rhythm only he knew.

Unable to look a moment longer, she tore her eyes away and instead inspected the penthouse. The bookshelves were emptier, large gaps existing where none had before. Some of the furniture had been reupholstered, the coffee table and lamps replaced entirely. A few empty bottles were scattered around which was a little odd but hardly worth noting.

"What is it you wanted to say? I'm a busy man, Detective." The cold edge to Lucifer's words startled her and she whirled to face him.

"Yes, I know you are." she said, taking a few steps towards him. "And thank you for seeing me anyways. It means a lot."

"Well don't leave in suspense." he drawled, taking a sip from his glass.

This was it, the moment of truth.

"I just want to start by saying, I am so sorry for what I said during the Porter case. There is no justification for what I said. None." she paused, watching him hopefully for a positive reaction. Lucifer remained impassive however, not even blinking. She continued anyway, "I should have known how the case was going to affect me and pulled myself off. I took my feelings out on you when you were just doing what you thought was expected of you."

Lucifer nodded thoughtfully. "Okay." he said at last.

Hope fluttered in her chest. "So we're… okay?"

He laughed, the terrible laugh of someone who has been made the fool. "Not in the slightest." He drained the rest of his glass and moved past her, towards the large windows overlooking the balcony.

"What… what do you mean?" Chloe just managed to get out from beneath the pressure filling her chest.

Lucifer tipped head back and addressed the ceiling. "Why do humans always expect forgiveness if they apologize? It seems to be a flaw in their design, not that you'd care." Predictably, he received no answer.

Chloe could not wrap her head around his last statement. "What do you mean 'we're not okay'?" she asked.

He turned to her, eyes practically glowing. "Why should you be granted forgiveness for something you did knowingly?" he challenged.

"People make mistakes!" she yelled, her world threatening to turn sideways at any moment and send her spinning away.

"Not me!" Lucifer screamed back.

The words reverberated around the room, echoing off the stone walls. It was the first time she had ever heard him raise his voice and her blood ran cold.

Lucifer looked completely undone, spittle flying from his lips as he clutched at his hair with both hands.

"I would never throw your insecurities in your face, no matter how furious I was with you!" he tugged viciously at his hair. "I never once said you were a bad mother if you picked up the spawn late or doubted your investigative skills if we lost the suspect. I never mocked you having a dysfunctional relationship with your mother or called you pathetic for trying to keep your marriage together." He took a massive breath. "I never said those things because I've never believed them. Never." His chest was heaving, body trembling violently.

"Lucifer, I never thought you were a monster. Not once." she protested weakly, terrified of what she saw before her.

"Yet you said it anyway!" he argued. "Somewhere in that mind, you must have thought it at least once or you would have never said it."

"That's not true!" she screamed back, all composure lost. "I feel terrible about it! How could you ever imply otherwise? Do you really think so little of me?"

Her face was flushed but the heat was nothing compared to the scorching anger taking residence in her gut. How dare he, after everything they had been through together, decide she was in-genuine? Had she not proved herself a thousand times over?

"BECAUSE YOU MEANT IT!" he screamed so loudly his voice tore. "I knew it the moment you saw me uncover that child at the crime scene. You were repulsed by me in every way imaginable AND I DON"T EVEN KNOW WHY!" His last few words ended in a sob, his knees giving out as he sank gracelessly to the floor.

Tears were flowing freely from tortured eyes, dripping from his chin and hitting the pristine floor like raindrops. His hands searched before him for something, anything to grab onto, fingers scrambling frantically for some minuscule amount of comfort. Finding nothing, he drew his arms around himself in a hug, head bowing forward so far his forehead nearly hit the floor. His crying rendered him incapable of speech.

Chloe was frozen, the scene before her freezing the very air in her lungs. Lucifer looked to be in absolute agony, his pain tearing through his body in great shudders.

And it was all her fault.

She rushed towards him, wanting, needing, to wrap her own arms around him. The moment she took a step forward, however, his head snapped up.

"Don't come near me!" and he backpedaled across the floor, kicking out and sliding until his back hit the massive windows. "Don't you dare!"

Chloe felt her heart shattered, literally. She forced herself to abide by his wishes, not wanting to cause any further damage.

"Yo-you know, I've been-been called a monster all my life." he said between sobs. "My father, my siblings, every-everyone I ever cared about. But I cou-could take it from them. N-not from you. Not from Ch-Chloe Decker who gives ev-everyone a chance, not from the kindest hu-human I've ever met." His eyes squeezed shut as his voice became incredibly small. "If even you think it, then it-it m-m-must be true."

What had she done?

"Lucifer, you're not a monster." she whispered, sinking to the floor limply.

"Yes I am." His head fell to rest on his knees as he curled protectively in on himself. "Because I made you believe it too."

A clock ticked steadily from somewhere in the apartment, the only thing marking the passage of time. Chloe stared at Lucifer, watching his sobs grow quieter but the shaking of his shoulders continue. She was completely numb, not even feeling the floor she sat on. It was like an out of body experience, her watching the scene from far overhead.

She wondered how Lucifer could have believed what she had said? Surely he knew he was not a monster. She had seen him act incredibly kind, put himself in danger for her. Their very first case together, he had been so broken hearted over the death of that singer, so much so he had taken matters into his own hand. The girl had been a druggie with no hope, no future and still Lucifer had resolutely believed in her, believed she could become something great.

It was the same steadfast belief he often placed in her.

The same belief she should have placed in him.

Slowly, she got to her hands and knees. Her backside was so numb from sitting that she nearly toppled over in her efforts. Pins and needles erupted painfully across her lower back but she ignored them, more intent on getting to her target. She crawled slowly, not wanting to alarm Lucifer.

As she drew near, she realized he was mumbling to himself, voice muffled by his knees.

"I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore." he chanted to himself. "Dad, please, I don't want to hurt anymore."

Never once in her life had she heard him beg for his parents. Lucifer had always maintained that his father was a terrible person who had abandoned him. To hear him now, ask for the parent who had caused him so much pain, was the final nail in the coffin for Chloe.

Until now, she had believed an apology would be enough to heal their tattered relationship. But now she knew better. She could not fix this with words or presents or any other superficial way. She had dug up something horrific and Lucifer had fallen headfirst into his own despair.

Lucifer peeked up then, just his puffy, swollen eyes visible. He recoiled at her nearness but otherwise did not move. There were no more tears, though he was still sniffling miserably.

"I'm so sorry." Chloe whispered, not sure what else to do.

"Please leave" he rasped, voice scratchy from the crying. There was no more anger, just exhaustion.

"Okay. If that's what you need, then sure." She backed away from him regretfully, hauling herself to her feet. "Are you going to be alright?" She could not help but ask, needing to hear him say it. How else could she leave him here like this?

"I don't know." he answered truthfully, leaning back until his entire face was uncovered. "It's broken and I don't know how to fix it."

"Broken?"

"Here." he said softly and rested a hand over his heart. "It aches all the time. Sometimes it's just a numbing cold but then it goes sharp like a stab wound." The fingers splayed across his chest trembled. "If it doesn't heal, I think it might kill me."

She gaped in horror at his assessment. "Lucifer," she began but he cut her off.

"Please, go? It hurts more when you're here." Defeated eyes pleaded for her to do as he asked.

And in one of the most difficult decisions of her life, Chloe Decker did just that. She did not get very far, just to her car before she started bawling, furious with herself even as she broke over Lucifer.

And Lucifer knew none of this. No sooner had Chloe left then Maze crept in using the stairs. She had sat on the floor with him for a good long while before heaving him to bed. For the second night in a row, he selfishly stole any semblance of comfort his demon had, offering none in return.

Not that Maze minded much. She was willing to let him take and take. If it helped him, she would give him her heart, her soul if she had one. As it were, all he really seemed to want was for her to hold him.

She was not sure such a small gesture could heal eons worth of pain though.


	5. I Thought I Could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst tapers off a bit after this point. I promise a happy ending for everyone.

Dr. Linda's office door had never looked quite as daunting as it did to him now. He was not scared, it took more than a piece of flimsy wood to instill fear in the Devil, but his palms were slick anyway.

In hindsight, arriving early for his appointment had probably not been in his best interest. But what else was he supposed to do? Lux was closed during the day and Maze was off doing whatever it was she did. He had no desire to mingle with other people so visiting a bar or finding a new bed-mate had been off the table too.

The fact of the matter was, nearly half of his waking hours of late were usually spent crime solving. Remove that from the equation and he found himself faced with hour upon hour of free time and absolutely nothing with which to fill it with.

No wonder humans watched hours of television, the mind numbing torment of commercials was far superior to the dark thoughts which refused to leave him be. His mind had become its own worst enemy.

He caught a look at his reflection as he paced restlessly in the small sitting room where Linda's patients waited. He had spent a great deal of time on his outfit today, not wanting so much as a single hair out of place. If his insides had to be in constant turmoil, the least he could do was balance it out with an impeccable exterior.

He may have overdone it a bit though.

His three piece suit, a $60,000 Kiton he only wore to very special occasions, accentuated his body nicely, the smokey grey contrasting with the red button up shirt he wore beneath it. His cuff-links were diamond, a gift from someone he had granted a favor to. Even his socks were expensive today. He was not one to typically fall for name brands but Gucci kept coming up in the fashion world so he had figured, why not? They were not the most comfortable pair he owned but they matched the suit.

The office door swung inwards, dispelling a balding man who clutched a tissue to his running nose. At the sight of snot, Lucifer moved a respectable distance away, not wanting the mucus anywhere near his clothes.

Dr. Linda followed her patient out, offering a few last words. "Charles, you did very well today okay?"

The man nodded miserably, shuffling out of the room as he sucked snot back up his nose. "Thank you Doctor."

She watched the man disappear with a sad frown before turning her attention to her next patient. "Oh Lucifer! I'm glad you came in today. After you canceled last week's appointment, I was concerned. Come in."

He followed her into the office and took his usual place on the couch, clasped hands hanging loosely between his knees. Linda had taken her own seat, notepad propped up on one knee and pen poised to write.

"First, is there anything specific you want to discuss today?" she asked, starting the session as usual with an icebreaker.

Discuss? There were a million things he wanted to talk about. The last week had been brimming with new, unpleasant experiences, none of which he felt capable of handling. Revealing this information to the good doctor, however, brought him up short.

In the past, he had needed no encouragement to talk about himself. He had rattled off issues and problems, eager to seek resolutions. Now, faced with the prospect of sharing something so personal, he hesitated.

Dr. Linda caught on to his hesitation immediately, frowning at the abnormal behavior.

"Lucifer?" she prompted.

He shifted uneasily on the couch. "Doctor I assure you, nothing has been amiss these last few days."

"Yet you canceled a session, which is out of character for you." Her pen fell to the pad and made a note.

"I was busy. Running Lux takes actual work, contrary to what most people think." His arms crossed as she began to write frantically on that infernal notepad.

"And how about work with Chloe? Have you had any new cases?" The question was phrased so innocently.

It was anything but for Lucifer.

"Me and Detective Decker no longer work together." he said shortly, hoping he could leave it at that.

Linda's eyes widened in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"We had a fight. I do not wish to discuss it."

"The fact you don't want to is exactly the reason you should."

"That makes no sense Doctor."

"Why do you not want to discuss what happened between you and Chloe?"

Because it hurt. Because he was so damn tired of crying. Because he just wanted it all to go away.

"Because… I just don't okay?" He felt like he was rapidly losing control of this conversation.

"Lucifer, I can't help you if you don't talk. That's kinda the whole point of therapy."

"Then therapy is rubbish." he said petulantly.

He could tell he was wearing Linda down. Persistence was one of his gifts.

"This is a breakthrough." she said, smile strained. "Up until now you've offered information willingly but now we have hit upon something you're struggling with."

"What do you want me to say?" he leaned back and crossed his legs, arms thrown back. "That once again I have royally screwed up? That I destroy absolutely everything I touch? That, maybe for the first time, I've finally gotten a clear look at myself?"

"Lucifer…" Linda said solemnly, concern etched in the lines around her eyes.

"No Doctor, you asked and I shall tell. What does it matter anyway?" he wanted to get up and start pacing but settled for tapping his foot against the floor. "I've realized a few unpleasant truths about myself. It's a tad ironic, for a Devil who always tells the truth, I've been lying to myself a bloody lot."

"Are you sure these realization are indeed truths? Sometimes when we are distressed, we see ourselves in the worst possible light." she argued cautiously.

"Oh I'm not the only one who thinks so. It seems everyone else has seen me for who I am save myself."

Linda shifted in her chair, "And who would that be?"

"Why, a monster, Doctor." He offered a self deprecating smile, slouching against the back of the couch.

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Linda shook her head violently, clearly torn between what she should say as a therapist and as a friend. She settled on therapist.

"And why do you think that now?" she asked. "In previous sessions, you've been adamant about the fact that you are not evil, you punish evil.

Oh if only he could tell her of all the travesties he had committed, the terror he had unleashed in Hell. The men who he had skinned alive. The women who had swallowed their own teeth. Drowning in blood. Being buried alive. Watching everyone they cared about die. Torture was an art. Necessary as it may be, he was certain Linda would not be arguing with him if she knew the truth.

"I hurt people." The words slipped out unexpectedly, a subconscious part of his mind taking over for a moment.

Linda looked putout. "Yes, when you were in 'Hell'." She stressed the final word.

"No. Here on Earth." His fingers worried at his cuff-links. He would kill, metaphorically of course, for a cigarette right about now.

"Does that have anything to do with the fight you and Chloe had?"

The weight on his chest grew tenfold at the prospect of telling the doctor what had happened. When he had told Maze, he had been purposefully vague, not giving her enough fuel to go on a killing spree. It was the same when the Detective had visited last night. He had tried to fake indifference for her, hide how thoroughly thrashed he was, but had dissolved in tears anyway like a bloody child.

"I made a mistake." He started uncertainly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. "I'm not sure what I did, but the Detective was immensely upset with me."

"But was it actually a mistake then?" Linda's pen was scribbling again. "I mean, it seems you only think so because Chloe had an adverse reaction."

"I uncovered a dead child at a crime scene." he said bluntly. The questions were beginning to wear on his already frayed mind. He very much wanted this session to end. "A boy had been bludgeoned and forensics was treating the injury like it was horrendous. Now I've seen my share of bloodshed and I was curious as to what could have happened to make twelve adults look ready to heave. So, I pulled off the tarp they were using to hide him and had myself a look.

"Really, it wasn't so terrible an injury. His skull was a little deflated on one side but otherwise… otherwise it was remarkably unremarkable. The Detective was horrified though. She kept trying to get away from me at the crime scene and then on the car ride to the victim's home, she wouldn't acknowledge me."

Linda had grown a bit pale through his brief synopsis, the skin around her mouth pulled taunt as she hid her personal reaction to his story. Lucifer wondered what was going on in her head. Was she judging him too?"

"What happened after?" Linda's voice was marble smooth, not even the barest quiver lurking.

"Well, I only accompany the Detective to victim's homes when she thinks a family member might be guilty. I took a look around, decided on a likely theory, and then went about grilling the boy's parents. I've done it before with spouses or siblings and the Detective's never minded.

"This time though, she practically dragged me outside and apologized to the murderer of all things! And then… well then she slapped me."

"Chloe hit you?"

"Yes Doctor, do keep up." He plowed on, wanting to finish the miserable tail so he could go home. "She said all sorts of things, called me addled in the head and said I was 'fucked up' and sick. I let her rant. Cases involving children always made her sensitive." He broke the cuff-link, the beautiful diamond falling to the floor with a muted thump. "And then she said I was a monster, said our partnership was a mistake. That I was one."

Linda had stopped writing some time ago. Her lips trembled, eyes wet behind her glasses.

"So you see Doctor, I am indeed a monster." he finished, waiting for her to agree with him.

But instead, Linda set her notepad aside and rose to her feet, coming around the couch to stand beside him. "Lucifer, listen to me closely, you've done nothing wrong."

He chuckled. "Haven't you been listening?"

"I have." Her hands settled on his shoulders, gripping tightly. "From what I just heard, you were doing what you always do, what you thought was expected of you."

"But… I made the Detective cry. I hurt her." He protested.

"And she hurt you too! Which one of you is really suffering more right now? Chloe is probably feeling guilty but how do you feel?"

"Like someone slid a knife into my chest and won't stop pressing it. The cuts don't fade, they just get deeper. And I'm cold all the time. Maze says my skin still feels hot but inside is numb. I can't eat or sleep properly or do much of anything really. What is this Doctor?"

"Lucifer, it's called heartbreak." Her hands slid from his shoulders to his back as she pulled him forwards into a hug.

"Heartbreak?" he repeated the unfamiliar term, returning her hug halfheartedly with one arm looped around her waist.

She released him but stayed close to his side. "Sometimes, when the body experiences intense emotional distress, the brain reads the signals as actual pain. In extreme cases, the heart itself can become damaged. Heart strings can break or you could have a heart attack, though both of these are ridiculously rare."

Pain? But Chloe was not here so he should be invulnerable. Did emotional hurt trump the whole immortal thing? He remembered how his knee had given out after he had run away from her, the scrapes he had received from the fall. Was Chloe so powerful that she could damage him from over a kilometer away?

"It does feel like I'm dying Doctor. How do I fix it?"

"By finding the root of all that pain."

Well that was Chloe obviously. But then again…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Samiel you're a monster, unbefit to have the name of an Angel!"

"Brother, how far you have strayed from Father's path. Your pride and arrogance is monstrous."

"Father is to cast you out now! He knows where monsters such as yourself should dwell."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He did not feel the lone tear that escaped.

Linda's thumb flicked against his face, whisking away the droplet of moisture. Her touch startled him, his body snapping backwards at the unfamiliar contact. The words his siblings had utter in the weeks prior to his fall bounced around his skull. He had not thought of that time for over a millennia, too busy hating his father to spend much time reminiscing about his brothers and sisters.

His adverse reaction to her touch did not sit well with Linda who, instead of retreating, took a seat beside him on the couch.

"Being called a monster… there's significance to that word isn't there?"

"You know, the Detective's always been adamant about me not being the Devil. Religion aside, she used to say she didn't buy it because she had seen who I truly was." He smiled to himself. "She was the first one in a rather long time who said anything like that. When Dad tossed me out, my siblings were quick to demean and label me the villain."

"So when Chloe called you a monster it brought up all these former feelings of inadequacy." She crossed her legs carefully, mindful of his space.

His gaze snapped to her at the comment. "Not inadequacy Doctor, never. My siblings may have Dad's approval but they are hopelessly ignorant, carrying out his orders blindly without even thinking about what they want. How could I ever be inadequate to robots?"

"So it didn't matter when your family spoke to you like this?"

"It was a long time ago, injuries heal."

"But scars never fade." She argued gently.

The muscles in his back twitched, perfectly illustrating Linda's words. It seemed he never could outrun his family could he? Even now, separated by kilometers of hate and rage, they still managed to interfere. Cutting off his wings had not done the job but he had nothing left over from his time in Heaven. Not the name. Not the prestige. Not even the clothes. Maybe the remnant was something buried deep within, something he could never dig out, a bright sliver in his soul that still marked him as property of God.

Linda looked towards the clock, noting they only had a few more minutes for their session. Not wanting to leave on a negative note, she tried to bring the conversation to a close. "Well Lucifer, what are you going to do now?"

An interesting question. Truth be told, he had sort of expected his issues to be resolved after this round of therapy. It was the thought that had sustained him all last night, the idea of a permanent fix for the aches he could not ignore.

"I don't know." he said, sounding far more uncertain than he would have liked. "Everything is twisted."

"Do you want to try being friends with Chloe again?"

Yes.

The past week all he could think about was the way her lips twitched when he made a lewd comment. The taste of stale coffee on their stakeouts. The rolling chair he sat in while she did paperwork and pretended to ignore him. She was the one who believed in him. Who knew how to make him laugh. Who never judged him for his faults.

But…

"I trusted her implicitly. She knows more about me than any other human on this planet and… and she knows exactly how to hurt me. How can I give her that opportunity again?" He swallowed around the newfound lump threatening in his throat. "I wish none of this had ever happened, that I had just said no when she called about the case.

"I'm scared Doctor." The confession tasted bitter. "Scared that she'll ask for forgiveness and I will grant it. But I also fear what will happen if she does not, if she moves on. Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

He was not going to cry. Not again. Far too many tears had been spilled on his end already.

"I think we should end this here and start having two sessions a week for a bit if that's okay with you." She eyed him sadly. "My phone is always on, you can call whenever you need okay?"

He nodded mutely.

Linda rose to her feet. "Is there someone who can pick you up? I don't think it's a good idea for you to drive home."

"I'm not a child." He said but the words lacked his usual menace. Instead, he pulled his cellphone from his pants pocket and opened his contacts list. He clicked on the first name that appeared, listening to the dull ring.

"Hello?" a deep voice answered.

"I'm with Dr. Linda. Come pick me up."

"Lucifer? What's going on? Why do I-" The voice cut off as Lucifer hung up.

Pocketing the device, he rose to his feet. "Well that was a nice chat. I'll let you know when I am available to take on another session." He needed to get out of the room and clear his head.

Linda's response was lost to his distracted mind as he pulled open the door and exited the office. The waiting room was fuller than before, several people sitting on those uncomfortable chairs every doctor's office seemed to have.

He did not pause until he was outside. The heat from the noon sun hit him hard the moment he opened the door, starched collar already threatening to wilt. Even he found the temperature a might uncomfortable. A large tree was next to the door so he waited beneath that, visible enough for Amenadiel to see him but hidden from the sun's rays.

His hands, never idle, produced his lighter and cigarette. Ignoring the massive sign two feet to his left declaring the area a No Smoking Zone, he lit the stick and rested it between his teeth. Nicotine had never really had much of an affect on him but the familiarity of routine was soothing all the same.

A park was located just across the street from his position. Due to the heat no doubt, there was not a soul there. The swings, rusted chains more red than grey, were motionless. A rickety metal slide reflected the sunlight, the surface probably hot enough to boil skin.

Heaven had not had playgrounds. Actually, Heaven had not had much of anything. When Lucifer had been cast out, the Silver City had only just begun to take shape. He wondered what it looked like now. Did it resemble anything here on earth?

His cigarette mostly finished, he tossed the butt to the ground and stepped on it, imagining he was crushing one of his brothers. Michael perhaps, who had fought with him, beat and helped toss him to Hell below. Or Gabriel, who was so caught up in Dad's splendor that he would do anything for praise.

"Lucifer!"

He looked up, musings broken, and found Amenadiel waving at him from the driver's seat of that unsightly Toyota he called a car. In many ways, the vehicle perfectly matched its owner. It was boring, basic, and unimaginative.

Swaggering through the parking lot, he climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door with more force than was strictly necessary.

"You took your time." he noted.

Amenadiel did not immediately answer, more concerned with getting back onto the road safely. Only once they were heading home did he answer. "I too have a life brother."

"I doubt that." he said snidely, half hoping to incite an argument.

His talk with Linda had been far too personal. He felt thinner somehow, as if layers of himself had been stripped back, his tattered soul left out in the elements to fend for itself. Those protective walls had to rebuild.

"Why did I have to pick you up? Did something happen to your car?" Amenadiel was far too accustomed to his brother's tantrums to pay him much mind.

"Dr. Linda requested that I have someone drive me home. I would have called Maze but she wanted to spend the day playing with the new bartender." He all but purred the words.

Amenadiel stiffened at the implication, nostrils flaring. "How is Maze?" he finally ground out.

Lucifer leaned back in his seat, clasped hands resting on his navel. "Oh splendidly all things considered. I just wish she would stop bringing her conquests back to Lux. She doesn't like to share."

Amenadiel was definitely pissed now. Steam was nearly coming from his ears. It was almost comical to Lucifer, seeing his normally put together brother struggling to deal with a very basic human emotion.

"Why do you always do this?" He took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at the smug man besides him.

"Do what? You'll have to be more specific."

"Piss me off. What's gotten into you?" His eyes returned the road though the furrowed brow remained stoutly in place. "I came by Lux a few days ago but you were so hopped up on whatever drugs that you hardly seemed to notice me. Now your therapist is asking that someone else drive you home. Brother, what's going on?" His tone lowered in concern.

Sometimes Lucifer wished he could lie. It would make his life so much easier. Lying by omission was all well and good but it was also dreadfully tiring.

Instead, in a move that surprised even himself, he told Amenadiel what had transpired between himself and Chloe. The elder angel listened quietly, only interjecting when he needed clarification. Lucifer kept the story short, repeating almost verbatim what he had said to Linda. He skipped over the end bit about his own uncertainties about how to proceed - no need to be any more pathetic than necessary.

When he finished, the car was silent for a long time. Amenadiel kept his eyes trained on the road, expression grim. But he always looked that way, at least to Lucifer.

It was not until they nearly reached Lux that he made any comment on the story.

"Lucifer, I'm sorry."

"Everyone keeps saying that." He said wearily.

Amenadiel pulled into the parking garage. "Does it make you feel better?"

"I don't know. Even when the Detective said it, it just seemed like a formality, just something humans do." He opened the door and climbed out. "Thank you for the ride."

"Of course. Lucifer, I'm here for you. You know that right?"

And he wanted to believe that. Truly. But only a month ago, Amenadiel was trying to destroy his life just to bring him back to Hell. Now that he had no powers, the angel seemed content to play nice but it was a temporary fix.

Just like Chloe's apology.

So instead of acknowledging the comment, he simply closed the car door and walked away.


	6. I thought I Would

The moment Chloe stepped out of the elevator at the police station, every eye was glued to her. At first, she thought it must be her appearance which was drawing the curious looks. She had cried well into the morning, crushed after her visit with Lucifer. The redness had yet to fade from her eyes, cheeks flushed and voice hoarse.

Describing how she currently felt as desolation would be a bit of an understatement. The world was suffocating her, making the very air too hot to breath. Walking across fire would be less painful then the torturous ache which pierced her very soul.

And even this dimmed in comparison to the pain Lucifer was in.

Her sporadic dreams had been filled by the broken man, weeping and begging for relief from his pain. She had awoken more than once, sweat drenched and his name on her lips. But even her waking hours were haunted by him. By his brittle gaze. By his defeated posture. By the tears wept for every injustice ever done to him.

Every fiber of her being wanted only to repair him. Even if that meant he never spoke to her again, she only wished to somehow spare him from going another second hurt. But he had made it clear that her being near only caused more pain. There were no words she could speak, no action that could fix things.

And that, her own helplessness, was killing her.

Her morose thoughts were so consuming that she was nearly to her desk before she realized there was something there waiting for her. She almost walked straight into the woman, veering at the last second and blinking furiously to uncloud her mind.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attent - Linda?”

Sure enough, standing right before her was none other than Lucifer’s therapist.

“Hello Chloe. I was wondering if we could chat for a bit?” Linda looked pointedly towards the row of interrogation rooms.

“Oh of course.” Chloe said, her stomach sinking.

“Wonderful.” She led the way, heels clicking against the tiled floor.

Chloe followed the shorter woman, closing the double doors behind her. Linda was already sitting smartly in one of the metal chairs clustered around the table, her piercing eyes taking in Chloe’s every move.

“I won’t insult you by pretending this is just a social visit.” Linda folded her hands on the metal tabletop. “I had a session with Lucifer this morning and a few things discussed troubled me.”

Chloe sank into the opposite seat, dread mixing with her guilt to create a toxic concoction in her gut. “Oh, so he told you.”

Linda nodded. “Surprisingly, he was completely honest which in and of itself was worrisome.”

She could feel the judgement wafting off the older woman. Unlike Maze’s white hot fury, Dr. Linda was more controlled, her features schooled into a soft look of… disappointment?

“I went by his place yesterday to apologize.” Chloe burst out. “I never meant to hurt him.”

If this information was new to the doctor, she did not show it. She nodded thoughtfully, ingesting Chloe’s words, unwavering gaze still focused with pinpoint accuracy on Chloe.

“And why did you decide to apologize?” she asked.

“Because I needed to. I hurt Lucifer badly, I know that.”

“I’m assuming when you say ‘hurt’, you are referring to the verbal part of your encounter? I am aware that you struck Lucifer but he did not seem perturbed by you taking such action against him.” There was something almost accusatory tainting her words.

Chloe’s eyes widened and it was all she could do to remain sitting. “That was the only time I have ever laid a hand on him! I’m not that kind of person, I would never…” She trailed off, the accusation hurting her more than she cared to admit. Was that what everyone thought about her now? That she was some sick woman who took out her anger on others? 

Did Lucifer think that?

“Chloe relax, I’m not accusing you of anything. I am merely pointing out something.” Linda soothed her, reaching across the table and laying a hand over Chloe’s trembling one. “When Lucifer spoke with me, he was far more concerned with what transpired verbally rather than physically.”

“Who cares?” Chloe wrenched her hand away, depriving herself of a comfort she felt unworthy of. “All that matters is that I hurt him. The how is inconsequential.”

“You know, throughout our entire session, Lucifer refused to put any blame upon you. He even tried to justify your behavior and put himself at fault.”

“H-he what? Why would he do that?” Chloe knew the part she had played in everything. Lucifer had been the innocent one, the sacrificial lamb to her rage.

Linda sat back, eyes slightly unfocused. “Lucifer is a remarkable man. If even half of what he implies about his family it true, he should be shattered. But instead he is, if not well adjusted, than certainly adoring of life. He jumps into everything feet first, eager to experience all the world can offer him.” Her eyes flickered back to Chloe. “And now he’s experienced something that’s not new at all.”

“What do you mean ‘not new’? I do-” She cut herself off.

Oh.

OH.

And everything made sense in one of those truly terrible ways - the truth somehow being more horrific than the lie.

“I’m not the first one to call him a monster.” Her voice did not waver in the slightest, a steel pillar behind which the rest of her began to crumble.

Linda sighed. “No Chloe, you’re not. I know this is breaking Lucifer’s confidence, but I thought it imperative for you to know the truth. I do not wish to see him hurt anymore. He will be informed of what I told you, I have no wish to lie. Certainly, he will be furious with me for awhile and rightly so but… I’m not doing this as his therapist, I’m doing his as his friend.”

Chloe understood that perfectly, not that she was paying Linda any mind. Her brain was still focused on that one little revelation, unable to process anything beyond that point.

She had to fix this. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Luci stop. You’re giving me a headache.” Amenadiel reached across the couch and tried to snag the remote from his younger brother.

Lucifer only scooted further away and continued flipping rapidly through the channels, eyes fixed on his television set. “No one asked you to be here, brother.” He hissed.

Amenadiel snorted. As dangerous as his brother sounded, it was difficult to take anything he said at the moment seriously. He was wrapped in a blanket, the top drawn over his head like a hood. A few pieces of hair escaped onto his forehead, leaving him to look far younger than Amenadiel could remember.

“I know that. I’m here because I want to be. It’s not good for you to be alone right now.” He spoke patiently, well aware of how emotionally thin the other angel was.

“Says who? I’m fine being alone. Prefer it in fact.”

“Will you stop with the act? You’re not fine!” Amenadiel had not meant to raise his voice but he was seriously worried. His brother was the Morningstar for a reason. No other angel had burned so bright with passion or life. Yet that same light was fading now, slipping away into nothingness. “I thought you never lied.”

Lucifer eyes flashed red at the accusation. “Don’t you dare question my integrity. You, the elder brother who would sacrifice anything just to appease father. The blood of every person Malcolm Graham hurt stains those angelic hands of yours, mine included.”

“And I am paying for my lapse in judgement at this very moment.” He argued, hating that his brother knew just how to push his buttons.

Lucifer’s eyes were no longer red yet they still gleamed with an almost maniacal glint. “How ironic that the punishment you wish to rid yourself of is what I yearn for. Stuck on Earth and free of Dad’s games. Though I suppose losing your powers does put a bit of a damper on things. At least I was allowed to keep my gifts. He just turned you into a pathetic human.”

The words tore into Amenadiel. “You’ve always been one to lash out. Our siblings consider your greatest sin to be pride but I’ve always wondered if it is actually wrath.”

“Well I wouldn’t know what they think would I?” He drew his blanket tighter around himself, curling his legs to his chest, only the tip of his socked feet peeking out. “And make no mistake brother, I am guilty of every sin.”

Lucifer’s words bothered Amenadiel. His brother was not one to admit his faults because he did not see them as such. What some called lust, he called pleasure. Wrath became passion. Gluttony, indulgence.

“This is all because Chloe called you a monster.” He mentally slapped himself for not catching on earlier. Of course that was the issue. How many times had Lucifer been labeled as one by their siblings? By their own father? A lie told enough times could become truth.

He himself was guilty of it too. He had called Lucifer evil, vile, and a hundred other tasteless names. For the first time, he felt anger at his Father. Anger for twisting something so bright into darkness and smothering it.

“Lucifer, you’re not a monster. I am.” He said soberly.

Lucifer stopped flicking through the channels, ending up on a cooking show. “Finally admit it do you? What tipped you off, the dreadful fashion sense?” 

“Luci I’m being serious!” Amenadiel said loudly, drowning out the television.

Bewildered brown eyes stared at him. “Brother, you’re the last sibling I would consider a monster. Gabriel? Maybe. Michael? Definitely. But not you.”

“Yes I am. When Father casted you out, I did nothing. None of us defended you or had your back because we were scared of receiving the same fate. You paid for our cowardness.”

Lucifer looked down. “You’ve no idea how many times I wished to return and see you all, even the ones I hate. I could not even see the stars. I was the one who created them, who spent eons shaping and nurturing the light but even they were taken from me.”

“It was wrong. We were wrong.” Cautiously, Amenadiel reached over and rested his hand on the younger angel’s shoulder. To his surprise, Lucifer did not pull away. Instead he sighed heavily, eyes sliding closed tiredly from the weight of his burden.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

Amenadiel shook his head. “Do not thank me for saying what I should have said millennia ago.”

They lapsed into silence, his hand still resting on Lucifer’s shoulder. Slowly, he felt the younger angel slump forwards, chin resting on his chest as his eyes slid close. An insurmountable weight appeared to have been removed from the younger angel, his body giving in to sleep rapidly. At the first snuffed snore, Amenadiel stood up. Easing his hands around Lucifer, he lowered him so he was laying on his side on the couch, still swaddled in the blanket. The remote had fallen to the floor and he retrieved it, lowering the volume and taking a seat on the other couch.

It was peaceful, hearing Lucifer’s soft breathing. For once, his brow was untroubled. One of his hands had fisted in the blanket and dragged the material up to his nose. He looked nothing like the King of Hell at the moment. In fact, all he really reminded Amenadiel of was those early days in the Silver City when everything had been a new wonder to explore.

And in that moment he knew everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is nearly over, I'm anticipating only two or three more chapters. Thank you to everyone who has read this far, I appreciate every single hit.


	8. It Wasn't Supposed To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go. I hope you like it, I wrote a thousand different versions of this chapter but this is the closest I could get to what I wanted.
> 
> Special thank you to everyone who messaged me, making sure I had not given up on the story.
> 
> And without further ado, so we begin the end.

There was no clock in the interrogation room and Chloe could only guess at how much time she had spent talking with Dr. Martin. No more than twenty minutes could have passed but it felt like hours to her.

The revelation sat heavy in the room, a cloud which pressed against her shoulders and bent her spine. 

Linda gave Chloe a moment to collect herself before asking, “I know you are not typically allowed to discuss your investigations with civilians but I was wondering about your most recent case.”

“The Porter case? We have a confession already. Paperwork just has to be finished and it’s all wrapped up.” She said robotically. 

The file was queued up on her computer and, just as it had been the day Dan had intervened, not so much as a single word was typed. She had tried but every time she focused on what she had to write, her hands would go numb and the ocean of guilt that was constantly lapping at her heels would threaten to drag her under in a roaring tidal wave. The higher ups were breathing down her neck as she had avoided handing in the report for almost a week now but she simply could not write it…

“Lucifer mentioned the case several times during his session. It was causing him serious duress.” Linda said.

Chloe ducked her head. “Well, yeah. That’s when… when everything went to shit.”

The other woman leaned back in her chair. “You know, the whole reason Lucifer feels so badly is because he thinks he did something wrong.” her eyes sharpened. “So, tell me, who was it who killed the child?”

Chloe felt ill, like when one first gets a fever. Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time, stomach churning.

“Er… the father of the victim… he killed his son.” she breathed deeply to ward off the nauseous. “H-he used a lamp. Buried it in the neighbor’s garden. It was… it was a fit of rage. Accidental.”

Linda’s gaze was sharp. “That is precisely the same theory Lucifer had, if I’m not mistaken. The theory that caused you to hurt him.”

“I-I…” she trailed off. There was no way she could defend her actions.

“Does Lucifer know he was right?”

Chloe looked down. “Does it even matter anymore?” she asked, defeated. “Knowing won’t change anything.”

“He’s going to know eventually. Would you rather he found out from someone else?” When Chloe offered no answers, Linda tried a different tactic. “Lucifer still doesn’t understand that what he did at the crime scene could be interpreted as poor etiquette. His entire image is based on you, on what you think of him. So yes, he should know he was right. He deserves to know.” She sighed. “Chloe, this is killing him. You’re the first person in a long time to put any faith in him, to tell him he is something more than a namesake. Maybe it won’t fix anything but that’s not the point. Right now he’s hurting. Badly.”

Well when she said it like that...

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The ornate clock on the stone wall proclaimed it was well past evening. The city outside Lux had begun to light up even as the sky bled from red and purple to black with the coming night. A dull glow emanated from the television in the corner, the only source of light in the penthouse. Amenadiel had considered turning on a lamp or two but had hesitated, anxious to not wake up Lucifer by mistake.

From his position on the couch facing the balcony, he could make out the younger angel’s curled up form. It was impressive how his brother, who seemed to tower over everything with his commanding presence, could appear so small now. He could not help but look over every few moments, fascinated.

The Lucifer he had known in Heaven had been all hard lines and scowls, a face constantly twisted into anger or displeasure. He could scarcely remember a time when his brother had been genuinely happy in the Silver City. Perhaps, he never had. 

It was one of the greatest injustices their Father had dealt Lucifer. More than free will, He had given humans individuality - the right to be inherently different. His children had been denied that, Lucifer most of all. He had been created as an outcast, forced to endure until everyone had tired of his individuality and he had been unceremoniously thrown out.

Amenadiel had yet to learn why humans felt the need to hug others but right now he very much wished to give his brother one… even if he would only begrudge and complain about it.

The elevator door slid open smoothly but the slight sound was not lost on Amenadiel, who twisted in his seat to see who the visitor was. Twice already, he had had to send away women who had come looking for Lucifer. They had worn looks of lust, eager to engage sexually with his brother. When he had ushered them out, claiming the club owner was ill, the women had hardly cared, only upset about the pleasure they were being denied. 

He had never before understood how lonely Lucifer’s existence on Earth was. To be surrounded by people every night only because they wanted to take…

If Lucifer found even this preferable to Hell, then Amenadiel would do everything in his power to make sure his brother never had to return. His moment of rebellion had been paid for a thousand times over as far as he was concerned.

Ready to tell whoever had entered the penthouse that Lucifer was indisposed, he choked the words back as he caught sight of the nervous figure shifting uneasily foot to foot by the bar.

“Detective Decker?” He finally managed, warding off a coughing fit.

“Hello… Amenadiel right?” She continued to fidget as if she was not sure if she was allowed to even be in the penthouse. “Is Lucifer here?”

His gaze unconsciously fell to his still sleeping brother. The too small blanket only covered his torso, curled legs exposed. His hair was in complete disarray, some pieces starting to curl while others fell flat across his scalp. He was not as pale as he had been earlier but the ill look had yet to fully dissipate. It was obvious in the dark marks under his eyes, the deathly stillness of his body as he slept.

Chloe followed his look and for the first time she noticed Lucifer was in the room as well. Unconsciously, she took a step forward. The action sent off a warning for Amenadiel who planted himself firmly between the detective and his brother, acting as a shield. Regardless of how he felt towards Chloe, she was still the reason Lucifer was acting so… unlike Lucifer.

“He’s sleeping and I ask that you do not disturb him.” He said quietly, crossing his arms.

Chloe faltered, remembering herself. “Oh right. Of course.” 

He waited for her to say why she was here but no explanation was forthcoming. Instead, her eyes were trained on the small bits of Lucifer his large figure could not hide. Taking another deliberate step forward, he plastered on one of those smiles Lucifer had always called ‘smug’.

“Can I take a message perhaps?” 

She jolted. “Oh yes. I just wanted to let him know that he was right about the Porter case. The father killed the son with a lamp just like he thought. I… I forgot to tell him that when I was here yesterday.”

Amenadiel was not nearly as good at sensing lies as his brother. He thought it came down to their nature. A part of Lucifer operated on a healthy dose of paranoia. He was always looking for the trap, any hint that he was being led on or deceived. By contrast, Amenadiel was content to take people at face value, assuming the best in those he met. 

But even he knew Chloe was not being truthful.

She was constantly moving, hands fumbling with the sleeves of her jacket while she tapped one of her feet softly against the impeccable tiled floor. More than that though, she seemed darker somehow, her edges in shadow. A guilty conscience perhaps? She had always radiated far more light than the average human, a beacon to which he was unconsciously drawn. 

Even as Chloe dimmed the Morningstar, so too was she losing her brightness. The hurt was nearly tangible to him, a force which he could feel with every sense. This was the reason he had been gifted with the ability to stop time. There was no connection he could ever form that would make all this pain worth it. He would rather operate in the stillness, separated from all living beings.

He half turned, looking to Lucifer who was still fast asleep. 

But, in some twisted way, his brother relished in the pain. He fought and rose above it, the swirling pit of darkness unable to get it’s claws in him. 

“You’re lying.” He said flatly, turning back to Chloe. “Why?”

“What? No I’m not. I really did want to tell him he was right about the case.”

“But why?” He pressed. “Telling him he was right, what does it accomplish?”

Choe was hugging herself, staring at Lucifer’s bare feet, the only part of him she could see. “Because he’s not a monster. Not to me.” Her face crumpled, careful composure lost in cascading tears. “Monsters don’t seek justice or protect their partners or- or remember the way you like your coffee. He’s so much more than that. Why can’t he see it? Why does my opinion matter so damn much?”

Amenadiel was silent, surprised by the force of her words. He had never once witnessed anyone defend Lucifer like this, aside from Mazikeen - and she was more given to physical outbursts than using words.

“I’m the monster.” She continued, almost defiantly, as if daring him to contradict her. “I was the one who said what I knew would hurt him. I was the one who took unjustifiably took my anger out on him just for doing his job. And he’s blaming himself for everything. But it’s not his fault!” She looked down. “It’s mine.”

The clock was still ticking, unyielding. Amenadiel looked over at it, watching the second hand travel its circle as he digested Chloe’s confession. 

“Lucifer is accustomed to being the one blamed for humanity's shortcomings.” he said thoughtfully. “He’s always seemed to just brush it off but it’s recently come to my attention that he carries each of these accusations with him.” he glanced over at the still sleeping form of his brother. “So many of us have let him down. I know I did.”

Chloe looked like she desperately wanted to come closer. She even took a step forward before freezing, remembering herself. Amenadiel watched emotions play across her face, amazed that one tiny soul could feel so much without combusting.

Then, her face settled into a profound look of regret. “I don’t want him to forgive me. I mean, of course I would like his forgiveness, but I’m not sure I deserve it right now.”

“Then what is it you want, Detective Decker?”

“I was him to forgive himself.”

And Amenadiel was starting to see what it was that Lucifer loved so much about humans. 

Because, for all the cruelty of which they were capable, they never ceased to amaze.

“I should go.” Chloe said, turning away.

Amenadiel did not call her back, instead simply watching as she entered the elevator and the metal doors slid shut. 

Sighing, he reclaimed his seat on the couch. Try as he might, he could not muster much anger towards Chloe. Even if she had hurt his brother, at least she had bothered to apologize. How many of his siblings would never look upon Lucifer with anything other than derision? How many were in Heaven right now, cackling with glee at watching the Morningstar fall to pieces?

Even he, for all his righteous talk, had been too blind and arrogant to treat Lucifer as anything more than a mistake.

He turned off the television, no longer interested in the drivel. In the semidarkness, Lucifer’s exposed skin seemed to practically glow. He had always found it a source of amusement, how utterly different he and his younger brother appeared. None of their siblings looked related by earthly standards but he and Lucifer were complete opposites. The only real similarity were their eyes, both brown in hue.

Unconsciously, his gaze jumped to Lucifer’s face. Now that he had seen what that face looked like, not twisted in hatred or drawn with despair, he found himself hard pressed to look away. It reminded him of those early days in the Silver City before humanity when everyone had been a family. Eons had been spent simply enjoy their Father’s creation, though Lucifer had always been a bit of a troublemaker.

He had thought Lucifer was asleep, and was startled when a pair of pained eyes met his own.

“She said sorry.” the younger angel muttered, sounding so young it broke Amenadiel’s heart.

“Oh Luci, I had no idea you heard all that.” he said softly.

Lucifer nodded, pushing himself upright. “She wasn’t lying.” he all but whispered. “I can tell when humans lie.”

Amenadiel frowned. “But last time she apologized, you didn’t believe her.”

“She was holding out about the case. Lying by omission is still lying, brother.” he staggered to his feet.

Amenadiel hastily rose to steady him. “Hey, where are you going?”

The tortured look he received hurt about as badly as a stab wound in the sternum. He gasped aloud, having never seen such an expression so steeped in agony.

“She wasn’t lying. She wasn’t lying.” Lucifer chanted, making his way towards the elevator.

“Luci wait! What are doing?” he grabbed him, stopping his progress.

Lucifer jerked free of his grasp, whirling and nearly falling over. He looked wild, heaving breath making his slender chest rise and fall alarmingly.

“She wasn’t lying!” he repeated impatiently.

Amenadiel was at a bit of a loss and Lucifer took this lapse in his focus to scramble to the elevator, jabbing furiously at the call button.

“Brother, I don’t understand-” he began but cut himself off when Lucifer rounded on him.

“She said I wasn’t a monster. I…” he looked down at himself, barefooted and clad in a wrinkled suit. “I just… I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”

And Amenadiel could almost understand what Lucifer was trying to convey. So, he did nothing as the elevator took his brother away. Instead, he stayed where he was, sending a silent plea to their Father, asking, just this once, that He let everything turn out alright.


End file.
